


Dark Prince

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-27
Updated: 2003-04-27
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:55:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Another slice of  wickedness, though perhaps not what people were expecting. Not to be taken seriously. Alex dies in the first moments, but has plenty of unclean fun after that.





	Dark Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Dark Prince

### Dark Prince

#### by Megaera

  

    
    
         From: "megaera" <>
         Date: Wednesday, October 02, 2002 1:18 PM
    
         Dark Prince
         AUTHOR Megaera
         DATE  October 2002
         TYPE M/K (Plus various hint of Lone Gunmen pairings and a
         smidgeon of Doggett/Krycek)
         RATING NC17
         Another slice of  wickedness, though perhaps not what people
         were expecting. Not to be taken seriously. Alex dies in the
         first moments, but has plenty of unclean fun after that...
    

* * *

A hundred years ago, spiritualists believed that the last images that a man sees before he dies would endure forever in his eyes. For a while, they tried to capture these images by photographing the eyes of the dead. But the spirit within had already fled, and the gellid eyes of a corpse could tell them nothing. 

But their ideas were close to the truth 

The images of death did linger. But in the spirit, not in the rapidly cooling remains that were left behind. 

So it was with the thing that was once Alex Krycek. Dead, yet some part of his soul remembered those last moments. even as he was drawn away from the pathetic, crumpled remains that lay in a pool of blood on the floor of the FBI parking garage. 

Downwards....... 

There was a rushing sensation, as if he was falling at a million miles an hour into a vast abyss. There was heat and a terrible sound; screaming that seemed to surround him. Then he felt solid ground beneath him and he found himself sprawled on a smooth, marble surface, dusty and strangely warm. 

His mind held within it a picture of his body. A self-image of sorts. Slightly younger than reality, (for who, ever, can believe themselves to be growing old) but still Alex. Only one arm though, since _that_ trauma ran deep. And with a new, circular hole in the centre of his forehead. In this place, wherever it was, his body took shape from that self-image. 

Some awareness of his surroundings made him glance upwards. He saw the being seated in front of him. He cried out, in shock and recognition, as his memory returned.... 

* * *

How interesting. A new arrival; fresh meat, so to speak. This one must have committed great evils on Earth, to have fallen so far and so quickly. Then of course, this particular arrival was already known to him. And expected. 

As always, the new arrival was on his knees before the Dark Lord of Hell. No human would dare to stand in HIS presence. Most humans were shivering, whimpering creatures, awed by the terrible majesty of their new master. Few humans had ever dared to face the Devil. Many at this point, had lost their minds, and couldn't even plead for mercy 

He studied the human. Naked, all of the scars that covered the human's body were obvious. A ruined stump was all that remained of the left arm, and at some time in the past the human had been beaten across the back and legs by something narrow but sharp, perhaps a pipe. The single wrist was encircled by a narrow band that the Dark Lord recognised as a handcuff scar. A dozen other knife and bullet scars marred the pale skin, some showing the thick granulation associated with poor medicated treatment. A poor specimen. And yet... 

Green eyes flickered upwards boldly to stare at Satan. Then warily were lowered in a display of submission. The dark lord chuckled. 

"Stand up Alexei," he commanded in an amused tone. 

Again, a quick, wary flash of those green eyes. But instant obedience too. The Dark Lord noted the long, firmly muscled legs and the well shaped, taut abdomen and ass. Pleasing, despite the scars. He smiled in anticipation of the amusement to come, and rose to his full height, which towered some four feet above the human. 

"Father...." Alex said softly. "I suppose this was your idea." 

"Of course!" the Dark Lord admitted. "To understand humans, there really is no substitute for personal experience. You needed to spend a little time on Earth, to round off your education." Alex indicated his ruined arm. 

"So you gave me amnesia and put me in a human body for thirty years!" Alex snarled. "Have you any idea how inconvenient it is to live for years with only one arm. And as for the aliens, and the Tunisian Jail..." 

"You did have some interesting adventures," his father admitted with a smirk. 

With a gesture, the Devil used his power to get rid of the human husk that his son wore, revealing Alexei's true nature. Those humans who had known him as Alex Krycek would have recognised him still, though they would have been astounded at the transformation. Green eyes, with vertical black pupils, razor sharp cheekbones, and long, sable hair that swirled round Alex's nude body like a cloak. 

His body was now perfection, no signs remaining of the short but painful life of Alex Krycek. No scars. An inhuman symmetry to his features that mortals would have thought beautiful, if they had managed to drag their eyes away from the dusky cock, lying quiescent against one firm thigh, and the wine-dark nipples against creamy skin. Younger, too. 

Alex studied his renewed arm with satisfaction, flexing his fingers and trying to find any imperfection in his long, shapely ebony nails. 

"Why did I have to be Russian?" he asked. 

Satan snickered. "As your uncle Lucifer always says, a bureaucracy provides the best education, if you really want your children to turn out evil. And a communist bureaucracy at that. We could have sent you to America, where there are more serial killers, or found a nice little military dictatorship, but Lucifer wanted Russia. I think he likes the vodka." 

Alex scowled. "I hate you all!" he shouted. 

"We wanted the best for you, Alexei. After all, you are the Antichrist....!" the Lord of Hell said. 

"I prefer to be called Alex!" came the rebellious response. "And if you think I'm going to get involved in all that trumpet blowing, four horsemen shit, you can think again!" 

Alex stormed off, unconsciously sending out small bolts of lightning in the heat of his rage, that sent a dozen smaller demons scurrying for cover. One was too slow and howled as a blue bolt of forked lightning seared it in the rear. Distantly, Satan heard the sound of something breaking as it was thrown against expensive marble floors. Please, not the Ming vase.... 

Satan sighed. The younger generation! 

* * *

No longer part of the FBI. 

No longer Scully's partner and Skinner's frustration. 

No longer a rival of other X File investigators, strangers. 

No longer...... 

Dammit! No longer Krycek's rival. 

Alex was dead, like so many before him, another victim of the conspiracy that had blighted all their lives for so long. His parents, Spender..... Samantha.... 

Mulder just felt so tired of it all. Maybe it was for the best that he was out of it all. How could Skinner have shot Krycek? Maybe Mulder had never really known his boss, despite their years of working together. He had just never expected Skinner to murder anyone. Any trust he had for the big man was gone. 

Mulder decided to go away. Yeah. Some time in the Great Outdoors. A place he could think, make a few choices about his life... The West Coast, probably. Mulder had spent most of his life in the East, and he wanted a new start. The only question was North or South? The mountains of Oregon, or the balmy beaches of California? 

What else had he left in Washington? Scully perhaps. But she had made it perfectly clear that there was no place for him in her life. Not in a relationship. In fact, the only decent offer he had received in years was... a certain, wicked, green eyed assassin. 

And now, he had to visit the morgue and give a formal id. on Alex Krycek's body. 

* * *

Alex was bored. Less than three days since his "death" and he still felt like a human. They lived at a faster pace than anything round here. He wanted... no... needed something to do. And the sort of company you could get round here wasn't big on conversation. Screaming, yes. The merits of a good cabernet sauvignon, definitely not. 

Though there had been that vogue a few years ago for Chianti, among movie-going cannibals... 

Perhaps he should look up some of his former acquaintances. Luis Cardinale or that black-lunged bastard, Spender. They were sure to be round here somewhere. Weren't they going to get a nice surprise... He could think of a thousand appropriate torments, some of them quite mediaeval... 

Hmmm. He'd have to invite his father to that show. Make an exhibition of it. Prove to his father that he did follow some of the old family traditions. Though not all. He had absolutely refused to have a 666 tattoo, even where it didn't show. 

Perhaps he could see what was going on in the world of the living. He rose with an almost supernatural grace and approached the pool of water that bubbled and hissed in the centre of the cavern. A gesture smoothed it over, and with a single word he caused a true image of the world above to appear. 

......Skinner sat behind a desk filling in some paperwork... Alex glared at his killer and vowed revenge. Later. 

....Scully bathed her small infant, smiling.... 

....Marita drove along a narrow, mountain road, her expression grim... 

....Mulder waited in a small room. He looked slightly agitated... 

Intrigued as ever by Mulder, Alex paused to study the scene more closely. As he watched, Mulder was led into a viewing room and a morgue attendant pulled back the sheet which covered the corpse. The pale, naked body of Alex Krycek was revealed, in all its imperfections. Mulder gasped as he saw how scarred the younger man's body was, especially around the stump of his arm. 

"Oh god!" he said. 

"Yeah!" the morgue attendant said. "This guy had a hard life. Some of those scars must be twenty years old, and I'd guess he's only about thirty." Mulder shivered. "Is it Alex Krycek?" Mulder nodded. "I'll go and fill in the paperwork, then you can sign it," The attendant said, and headed for his office. 

After a few moments, Mulder glanced around him, to see if he was alone. Then, to Alex's astonishment, he reached out to the corpse and gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from the still face. 

"Where did you go wrong, Alex?" he said softly. "You could have been so good..." 

Alex chuckled wickedly to himself. If Mulder knew everything, he certainly wouldn't think _that_

"Goodbye, Alex..." Mulder said sadly, then the laughter did in Alex's throat as Mulder leaned in and briefly brushed his lips against those of the stiff. 

Alex stared into the shimmering pool, How could he have missed that? His human self had been hopelessly naive in some ways, but surely he should have noticed that Mulder wanted him. Then again, Mulder was one of the most sexually repressed men Alex had ever met. Even his former employers had found no evidence of Mulder having an active sex life. Typical that the man could only allow himself to accept the truth of his sexuality when no-one was able to see it. Despite one failed marriage that proved his ineptitude with women. 

So Mulder _was_ attracted to men! Damn, what a wasted opportunity. The thought of that cute butt being offered to him was delicious. In fact, the thought of messing with Mulder's head was itself, pure temptation. 

Well he was meant to be the son of the devil. Why shouldn't he have some fun...? All that apocalypse stuff was so old fashioned... "Thou shall fornicate" was much more fun. 

His father would bitch, but he could always use the excuse that he was spreading evil. It was literally true. He remembered all too well how well proportioned Mulder was. The human Alex had been frozen into tongue-tied confusion by the sight of Mulder in red speedos, that one time. The more than generous bulge they had revealed. Now, evil wouldn't mind spreading his legs at least once... 

After which, Mulder would offer himself in return... So much stored up passion to give once his inhibitions were overcome... 

So many sins to commit.... 

Alex studied the scene in the morgue closely for a moment, and grinned. A small gesture and a fractional expenditure of power achieved his purpose. 

* * *

What the hell was he thinking? Mulder knew at once that he shouldn't have come near this place. There had been too many other times when he had seen the bodies of family and friends on the slab. Maybe it was all catching up with him at last. He only knew that the sight of Alex Krycek's pathetic remains on the metal slab made something catch in his throat. Alex no longer seemed a deadly enemy whose death should be welcomed. No, Krycek looked more like that rookie from years ago, the lines of pain and anxiety smoothed from his pale face. 

Damn. Just another victim of the Consortium, just like so many others. Why had Alex kissed him that time? He had wondered often, over the years. Obsessively. Now he would never know. 

"Damn it, Alex!" he whispered. "Why?" 

He glanced over towards the morgue attendant, but the man had left the room to organise the paperwork for him. Well at least he could do one thing for Alex. Return his kiss. 

Swiftly, he bent and brushed his lips against the cool skin. But surely, a body shouldn't feel so warm, almost alive, with the faint, lingering scent of some exotic perfume, maybe sandalwood. Nor should the mouth yield beneath his, answering the kiss, arms reaching up to entwine around him. 

With a cry, he stumbled backwards, staring at Krycek. 

Where before, there had been a body resembling cold marble, still and lifeless, now the naked body that lay on the slab was flushed and rosy with life. But when had Krycek ever had long, long black hair, or skin so rich and creamy in texture that it just invited a caress. Nipples so dark as to be almost violet. Flawless, even down to the velvety skin of his perfect cock, which lay against one smooth thigh. And two arms..... 

Emerald green eyes studied him for a moment. 

"Mulder..." Alex said in a low, urgent voice. "Get me out of here!" 

And somehow, he was obeying that honeyed voice, pulling the sheet off the slab and wrapping it round the other man, guiding the younger man through corridors, past a strangely empty security desk and out to his car. 

He was mad. There was no other explanation. 

Consortium assassins didn't come back from the dead. Nor did they acquire new, lovely bodies... Oh god, he was so beautiful... And how had Alex got himself invited into Mulder's life so easily? 

* * *

When the door finally closed behind them, and they were in Mulder's apartment, the agent let out a sigh of relief. Then he turned to the vision before him. 

"Alright!" Mulder snapped, trying to regain control of the situation. "Who are you? You're not Alex!" 

"Actually, I am. Sort of." His green eyed guest chuckled. The sheet drooped a little, and Mulder was transfixed by the sight. One dark flushed nipple was pointing at him, full and erect. He moaned softly, unconsciously shifting his weight, leaning forward slightly towards his guest. What would it be like to just taste that inviting nub...? 

He shook his head, feeling slightly dizzy. He had to look elsewhere. Anywhere else. Yes, look at the face. See if it really is Krycek. 

Green eyes, the colour of Zambian emeralds, fringed by a forest of long, dark lashes. A mouth full and pouting, made to be kissed. To be plundered by his own. Lips slightly parted,, giving the (impossible!) impression of innocence. 

Krycek wasn't this naive and beautiful. Alex Krycek was a murdering bastard who deserved everything he got. Not innocent. Not ready to fall on his back and let himself be ravished by Mulder... 

Oh god, where had _that_ come from. 

Mulder felt dizzy. He could feel blood rush towards his cock. He had to get control of himself. Right now, or he was going to... to... 

Those full, kissable lips parted further. There was the tiniest flick of a rose pink tongue across them. And as if just noticing the way Mulder was staring at him, a rosy flush spread across the flawless complexion. 

Mulder gave the tiniest whimper. 

The sheet slipped another few inches lower, exposing creamy white skin that Mulder just knew was soft like velvet, across the compact muscles beneath. 

"I'm the same person who went with you to Russia. The same person you slammed up against the wall in Hong Kong... I even remember kissing you, once..." Alex purred. 

Mulder barely heard the content of the speech, spoken in a sensual undertone that seemed to short circuit his common sense. There was a throbbing hardness between his legs that demanded his full attention. 

He didn't notice the green eyes fill with amusement and smouldering sexuality. And wickedness. 

The sheet fell to the floor, and Mulder's soul was lost. 

* * *

He didn't remember how or when he had undressed. He didn't care. All he knew was the silken touch of velvet skin beneath his lips, as his mouth covered those luscious lips of his former enemy. Alex Krycek's arms were wound around him with unexpected strength, pulling them both down onto Mulder's bed 

(How had they got to the bedroom? And wasn't his bed piled high with junk, not covered with black silk sheets scattered with rose petals....?) 

That mouth yielded beneath his, opening for him and he felt the other man's tongue slide into his mouth, exploring, bold in its assumption that he would allow the intimacy. Krycek tasted sweet, but not like anything he was familiar with. As sweet as honey, but more refreshing somehow. He would have been content to savour the taste of this man for hours, if his body hadn't made its demands clear. He pulled back from the kiss and caught his breath at the sight of the vision before him. In the heat of passion, Krycek was stunningly beautiful, green eyes half closed, hooded with passion, moist mouth parted and long hair spread across the pillow in a shadowy cascade. 

Alex Krycek had NEVER had long hair.... 

The last of his doubts fled when a small whimpering moan escaped from the glistening lips. It couldn't be Alex. And if it wasn't his hated enemy, then surely it was alright to sleep with this beautiful man. Before he could change his mind, he threw caution to the wind and flung himself forward, pushing this Krycek lookalike onto his back. Mulder's mouth unerringly found one of those taunting, teasing dark nipples and fastened onto it determinedly. With a yelp of pleasure, "Krycek" arched his back like a sinuous cat and pushed the small nub deeper into Mulder's mouth. 

He wanted to taste more of this man, despite the fact that he was inexperienced with men. From the moment he had first seen the beautiful, nude body, the dusky cock had drawn his attention as if magnetic. He had never wanted THAT from a man before. Had he...? 

Well, perhaps in the depths of the night, when his inhibitions were at their lowest... 

Krycek was so beautiful though. Irresistibly, he opened his mouth and took the tip of Alex's cock into his mouth. That got a yell of encouragement from Krycek, and a hand in his hair, clutching him closer. Mulder himself moaned as he tasted the first dewdrops of precum poised at the tip of Alex's upraised cock. A sweet dark nectar that seemed to melt on his tongue, yet making his own body catch fire. He was burning with the need to sheath himself within Alex. 

Mulder nudged the other man's thighs apart and his inexperience became apparent. Knowing something in theory was a little different from reality. Confronted with a real life man surpassing his wildest fantasies, he found himself reduced to clumsy fumblings. 

A hand pressed against his chest, pushing him away gently. "You've never done this before, have you?" Krycek asked softly. Mulder blushed crimson and shook his head. In his embarrassment, he didn't see the green eyes light with unholy glee at the thought of Mulder as a virgin with men. Suddenly, Mulder was being pushed onto his back, and Alex Krycek was astride him, powerfully muscled thighs on either side of him. A hand was grasping the base of his erection with a well practised grip and Krycek was smiling down at him. 

"Trust me, Mulder, I think you'll like this," that sensuous voice purred. Then Alex was guiding him.... And then he was enclosed by the most incredibly close, tight sheath. Krycek gave a little, sobbing cry and sank down onto him with an expression of bliss. 

"Oh yeah!" he purred. "That's good." 

Being inside Alex was like being enclosed in a furnace, and wanting to burn. And then Alex began to move in slow, graceful moves that made him helplessly push upwards in his desire to have more of this wonderful new sensation that Alex generated. Alex himself was panting as his movements became more rapid, his long, dark hair spilling over his shoulders as he worked Mulder for his own pleasure. Without thought, Mulder clutched at him, hypnotised by the beauty of his lover and the white heat that his movements brought. His hands slid over Alex's chest, squeezing those rosy nipples, and with a very Krycek-like grin, Alex's hands covered his, then his head flung back and he screamed out his climax. 

Mulder felt his own explosion coming even before the wild pressure of Alex contracting around him. It was every bit as good as he had dreamed it would be. And yet when it came... 

"Alex! Oh god, Alex!" 

He hadn't intended that. Not that sobbing cry that was his enemy's name. Filled with his need and confusion and desire. A frank admission that Alex Krycek (or whoever it was) had blown his mind. To cover his confusion, he closed his eyes. Maybe Alex would think he was out of it... 

Lips brushed against his, and involuntarily he opened his eyes again, to stare at the smiling face of his lover. "Ever wondered how many times you can come in one night?" Alex licked his lips suggestively. Mulder felt his cock jolt and begin to reawaken. "This time you'll be on top," Alex promised. And Mulder caught his breath as for a moment, Alex let him see just a fraction of the wickedness that lurked in his eyes. 

For the first time, Mulder realised that he was way, way out of his depth. 

* * *

Much later... 

Alex slithered out from between Mulder's encircling arms and looked down at his lover. Mulder was sprawled across the bed, beautiful and almost wanton in post-coital bliss. Alex had never seen his former partner in that particular state before. Mulder really ought to have sex more often, if this is what it did for him. The "wanton sex slut" look really suited him. 

Mulder smiled sleepily at him, lying on his side facing Alex, and patted the bed next to him in invitation. 

Alex the predator moved in for the kill. 

He moved round behind Mulder, rested a hand on Mulder's hip and began to place small kisses down Mulder's spine. His lover made small noises of pleasure and Alex increased the pressure of his hand. Just a little more and Mulder would be on his stomach, that beautiful ass ready for Alex's tender ministrations... Mulder was so blissed out from their earlier sessions that he wouldn't realise, at first, what Alex had in mind. 

"Yeah baby... Trust me." Alex kept up a steady stream of quiet reassurance and began to direct his attentions lower. "Oh yes! Spread your legs for me baby." Mulder's moans became louder. "That's it Fox." 

"Fox!" Mulder yelped suddenly and unexpectedly rolled over, on top of Alex. "Don't ever call me that. I hate it!" He chuckled softly. Then he grinned as he realised that Alex was positioned so deliciously beneath him. "Alex!" he moaned, and began to kiss his lover. 

"But I wanted to..." Alex protested, between kisses. 

Mulder paused for a moment and blushed. "I don't... That is, I've never...." His blush grew deeper. "I prefer it this way!" he said decisively, and intensified his kisses. Alex felt the long, thick length of Mulder's cock against his belly, concealed his disappointment at the failure of his plans, and settled down for a long, slow fuck. Mulder had learned quickly. There were some things that he excelled at, and if Alex couldn't be on top, then this was almost as good. 

* * *

Morning.... 

Mulder felt good, no, great. Not like he'd been fucking all night. Strange, but not as strange as the events of last night. The warmth alongside him proved that it had been no dream. He should be utterly exhausted just from the way he had been ridden..... 

Mulder lifted his head from the warmth of Alex's shoulder as he heard the sound of smothered laughter. He gave a squawk of surprise. Standing, watching him and Alex, were four strange figures. Three were definitely women, and one was dressed in a cloak so concealing that it made its sex indeterminate. The three women leered at him. 

"Nice ass!" one of them purred lasciviously. The others winked and chuckled. One made an obscene gesture, inviting him to a closer acquaintance with her nether parts. 

Mulder blushed and tugged at the sheet to cover himself, his surprise rapidly turning to outrage. 

Alex lazily opened his eyes and chuckled at Mulder's fumbling attempts at modesty. How very human. Nakedness was a temptation to sin, mostly of the hot, wet and sticky kind, which is why Alex loved displaying himself so much. 

Of course he knew who they were. Old acquaintances. The Four Horsewomen of the Apocalypse. Famine, War, Pestilence, and lurking behind the others as usual, Death. 

This had to be his father's idea. 

They had been sent to retrieve him, and if possible, try to tempt him into the whole Apocalypse scene. Not a chance. He was having too much fun with Mulder. Things had barely got started last night, and already he had persuaded the sexually naive agent into quite a few new (to Mulder) sins. It had been utterly delicious. 

He was NOT going home till he had fucked Mulder at least once. That gorgeous ass was just too beautiful to leave untouched. Tempting the virginal Mulder to give it up to him was going to take at least a day even with his beauty and talent. And of course, once he had taken possession of that delightful butt, he needed time to enjoy it. At least a night. Afterwards, if Mulder wasn't walking like a beautiful woman after a week's hard honeymooning, then Alex would consider it a personal failure. 

The Horsewomen were an odd bunch. Not entirely immune to his charms, fortunately. Though he generally preferred men, there had been that one time at the Dante Anniversary party when the five of them had somehow ended up in a closet together..... He wasn't sure why Hell had closets, unless it was for practising certain sins, but it had been a unique experience. Both hellish and squashed. 

* * *

Famine was an incredibly thin blonde, who apparently had a quite good career sideline as a supermodel. War was a dark, butch Xena-lookalike in leather who loved wrestling. Pestilence was a foul mouthed spotty bitch who looked a bit like a librarian, and Death..... Well Death was Death. A collection of bones covered by a leathery skin which held things together, (more or less). At least she had left the scythe at home. But what about.... 

"Tell me you didn't bring your usual transport!" Alex sat up as he spoke. 

Pestilence jerked a finger towards the street and giggled loudly. 

Naked and beautiful, knowing that all five of the room's occupants were intently watching the play of muscles across his ass, among other things, he strode over to the apartment window and looked out. The four horses, otherwise known as the Black Steeds of Hell, were tied up outside the apartment complex, and already had attracted the attention of one of Washington's finest. A traffic cop. The man extended his hand towards the nearest black steed, and Alex winced. The last time he had done that, he had almost had his _first_ limb amputation. 

There was a crunch and a howl, then the rapidly diminishing sound of screaming as the guy fled down the street. Alex listened in appreciation for a moment then turned back to the others. 

"Didn't you even feed them?" he sighed. 

So much for a quiet life. 

The Four Horsewomen were all studying his rear, taking absolutely no notice of anything he said. Which was fairly typical. He grinned and sashayed a little for effect. What was he going to wear to emphasise his charms? Alex frowned as he flung open Mulder's closet. Damnation! He should have brought something with him. Grey sweats would have to do. He was biologically programmed to prefer black of course, but Mulder wasn't. There was nothing suitable in his lover's wardrobe at all. Though why Mulder would have black silk or velvet... 

He pulled on the sweats and smiled to himself as he heard five identical regretful sighs, four feminine and one masculine. Nice to know he hadn't lost his charm in his latest incarnation. 

Mulder looked bewildered by the turn in events, but also a little jealous at the way the women were looking at Alex. Good. 

"My associates!" he said to Mulder, by way of explanation. "Don't flirt with them or I'll spank your ass." 

Amazing how predictable Mulder could be. Hazel eyes went wide with outrage and Mulder opened his mouth to yell something. Then he caught sight of Death, whose cloak had been dislodged a little as she peered down at the chaos in the street below. He made a choking sound and turned to Alex, his eyes begging for an explanation. 

"Death is a personal friend of mine!" Alex purred. Then he aimed a swat at Mulder's butt. "Get dressed, Mulder. You aren't in the FBI any more, so you don't have to go to the office this morning. Let's go have some fun." 

As Mulder hurriedly escaped into the bathroom, accompanied by three and a half wolf whistles, (Death, having no lips, making a hopeless, high pitched hiss) Alex jerked his thumb towards the street. 

"Fix me up some transport that doesn't have four legs, ladies. Preferably four wheeled and fast. Oh and dark colours are good." 

"Why should we help you, Alex?" Famine purred. "What's in it for us? Do you know how much trouble you're in?" 

"Trust me!" Alex used his huskiest, sexiest voice. "Tell me, what's the thing you like to do best of all?" 

"Killing!" said Famine. 

"Slaughtering!" said War. 

"Extinguishing life!" said Pestilence. She thought of herself as the intellectual member of the Four Horsewomen. 

"All of that!" Death said softly. 

"We might be able to fit a little of that in," Alex said. After all, he enjoyed a bit of vicarious murder himself, on occasion. "But what I really had in mind was the other thing you like..." 

"Sex!" Four voices chorused. 

"Yeah!" Alex said with a sly grin. 

"Oh Alex..." 

Alex quickly retreated from the four pairs of hands that reached out to paw him. 

"Not me!" he said hastily. There was a chorus of disappointment. "But I guarantee to get you all laid in the next twenty four hours, if you help me." 

"Hmmmm!" Four females retreated into a huddle for a conference. "Okay. But if you don't deliver, then you'll spend a whole week in bed with us... A week each!" 

Alex shivered, despite his confidence in his own evil abilities. Yuck! 

* * *

Later..... 

Alex smiled in satisfaction. Things were going better than expected, despite having to cope with his four "colleagues." A little concentration from the four horsewomen transformed their four swift horses into a high powered 4X4 landcruiser, black of course, so transport was no problem. He was going to drive it though, with Mulder at his side. The horsewomen could take the back seats. 

Having to come up with bed partners for those four bitches was a bigger problem, but he had the inkling of an idea. In fact, his plans were well advanced. After fucking Mulder, the thing he wanted most in the world was a little revenge on Skinner. It occurred to him that maybe he could solve his problems by introducing those bitches to Skinner, but no.... They wouldn't be satisfied with only one male. Nice thought though. He considered the possibility of visiting the FBI's underground car park tonight. And then... Payback! 

Mulder's cellphone rang. With a hesitant glance towards his companions, Mulder pulled it out of his jacket pocket and answered it. Scully. 

"Mulder, where are you? I've been trying to get hold of you for hours!" Scully sounded shrill. "Did you know there was a violent assault in front of your apartment this morning. A really weird case too. Some traffic officer had both hands bitten off by a wild animal, and his partner appears to have been trampled unconscious...." Death peered at him curiously, bony fingers curling round the edge of his seat. 

"I... er I don't know anything about it," Mulder faltered. Death's interest wasn't the sort of thing any sane person wanted. "Sorry. Goodbye." 

"Good boy." Alex patted his cheek and enjoying the red flush that coloured it at his patronising tone. He gunned the 4x4 and it surged forward. "Time for some fun!" He turned to the horsewomen, ignoring Mulder's scream of panic as he took his eyes off the road. "Let's rob a bank" he mouthed at them, with a warning roll of his eyes towards Mulder. Four wicked grins matched his own. Mulder's screams rose in pitch as the 4x4 headed towards a very big truck. Alex whooped in joy and aimed for it, dead centre. At the last moment, the truck driver managed to swerve out of the way and jack-knifed, its load of tinned dog meat scattering all over the road. Outstanding! 

Alex purred with satisfaction, ignoring Mulder who was cowering in his seat, face white. Alex could hear his lover's voice moaning "ohgod ohgod ohgod" in a muttered undertone. 

Not quite. 

What Alex really wanted was a truck full of gasoline, or his favourite, from "Starsky and Hutch," a bag lady pushing a shopping trolley full of cans. Something spectacular and showy that would make a huge mess. Maybe he would get lucky later and find a school bus or something... 

First Savings and Loan, on the corner of 12th and Market. That would do nicely. He drew up outside the bank and leered at Mulder. "I need to make a withdrawal," he said to Mulder. "Want to take over the driving?" A pale faced Mulder nodded frantically. "We'll just be a minute." 

War licked her lips and headed for the boot of the car, followed by her three companions. Alex guessed that they had brought plentiful supplies with them. They were always on the lookout to raise a little Hell. Their parties were legendary. And one day, of course, they were destined to do the full apocalypse thing, with his help. 

Well at least he could argue with his father, that he had merely been getting a little practice in, when Satan finally caught up with him. That was a great idea. Now all he needed to find were four sex-starved, none-too-fussy guys to foist the horsewomen on. 

Pestilence tossed him a machine pistol which he stuck in his waistband, pulling his shirt over it to conceal it. Then he headed towards the bank, noting in passing that Mulder had moved into the driving seat. Poor, innocent Mulder. Life was going to get very interesting for him with Alex in his life. 

Time to party! 

* * *

Mulder stared dully ahead of him, his mind a turmoil of emotions as he thought about the last 24 hours. He had been the recipient of just about every emotion under the sun. Sadness, fear, desire, confusion.... the list was endless. And it was all the fault of that green eyed assassin. Damn Alex Krycek. Or whoever... 

An ear splitting noise shattered the air, as the bank alarm began to ring out into the still air. With a muttered curse, Mulder fumbled for his gun, before letting his hand fall to his side in confusion. He realised that he no longer carried his FBI issue firearm. Three days ago, or was it three weeks, he had finally handed in gun and badge. He had a spare gun of course, but he hadn't thought to bring it with him this morning. Alex and his friends had been too distracting.... 

The doors of the car opened,, and Alex and his friends leapt in. 

"Drive!" Alex snapped. "You really don't want to get caught robbing a bank, Mulder!" 

"What!" Mulder yelled. Alex grinned wickedly. He and the four horsewomen whooped and slapped hands in a high-five gesture. Then a thin, bony finger prodded the stunned Mulder in the shoulder. 

"The prince said DRIVE!" Death purred in his ear. Then the finger reached past him and touched the dashboard. The car burst into life with a throaty roar, and with a squeal of tyres, sped off away from the bank at considerable speed. The only problem was... It was driving itself; steering expertly between the slower moving traffic and neatly avoiding pursuit. 

Mulder fell back against his seat, eyes wide. Silently, he stared at his companions and shivered. When had he fallen into an episode of 'The Twilight Zone?' 

"What do you wish us to do now, my prince?" Pestilence enquired of Alex in her gruff voice. She grinned in a way that made it quite clear that a little mayhem would be welcome right about now. Or sex. In her mind there was probably no difference. 

"Prince?" Mulder turned to stare at Alex, his eyes wide with surprise. "You're a prince? Where of...? I don't understand." 

Alex sighed. Mulder was as pale as death, and was wearing his best "little-boy-lost" expression. He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around his pretty companion and give him a reassuring hug. Alex didn't lack kindness for his human pets as a rule (at least until he had tired of them), but at the moment a quiet, passive Mulder was useful. He settled on compromise. 

He gently patted Mulder's knee. "My father is someone very important, yeah, but you really wouldn't want an audience with him, believe me!" 

He let his hand slide up Mulder's knee to stroke the inner thigh, and grinned as he saw colour flood into the other man's face. A little higher, and Mulder began to breathe raggedly. 

"Like that, huh?" Alex purred. Mulder nodded, all attention on Alex's touch; the slut inside him was easy to awaken. It was a pity the four bitches were watching with increasing interest. There were some times when an audience was fun, but this wasn't one of them. 

Now to make Mulder think he was kind and generous... 

"Pull over," he ordered the apocalypse steeds who were possessing the car. "We're going to give this money to charity. There's an orphanage over there. Give them the money." 

Pestilence made a rude noise, but followed orders. Those of the horsewomen with eyeballs, rolled them in mock surprise. Death didn't exactly have eyeballs, just mouldy, glowing pits. She did, however make a rather rude gesture with one finger in her nose slits, which was (reportedly) commonly in use among Ancient Egyptians. 

Amazing what he'd do to get laid. 

(Note: Interestingly, when the director tried to bank the money, he was arrested and later served 10 years for assisting in an armed robbery. As a result, the orphanage closed.) 

* * *

Doggett was having a bad morning. Another X-File, on top of the two he was already investigating, all within an area of a couple of miles, in downtown Washington DC. The disappearance of Krycek's body from the morgue, the cannibal horses of Georgetown and now the bank robbery with some rather bizarre bank robbers. A man and four women, one of whom was described as a walking skeleton... Three unconnected cases...? 

Well, so he'd thought. Until he'd seen the security tapes. And recognised the man on the tape from his brief acquaintance with the sonofabitch. 

Alex Krycek! 

Impossible. Corpses just didn't get up and walk out of the morgue, then go on to commit bank robberies. Oddly enough, (Another coincidence?) all this had started just after Mulder had been to the morgue. And hadn't that incident with the horses been outside Mulder's apartment. 

Doggett began to smell a rat... 

* * *

Byers lazily reached out to key the entry button on his right. The camera over the doorway clearly showed Fox Mulder and a companion waiting patiently outside. It was good to see that the former agent was picking up the threads of his life again. The Gunmen hadn't seen Mulder for weeks, since his abrupt departure from the FBI. Unless this was a social call (unlikely with Mulder!) then their friend was investigating something and needed their help, as usual. Wonder who his companion was? The guy had avoided looking into the camera. Still, any friend of Mulder... as they say. 

After a few moments, Mulder appeared, followed by his mysterious companion. Byers and his friends saw who it was. 

"Oh...," said Frohike. 

"...my...," said Byers 

"...God!" said Langley. 

They all recognised Alex Krycek. And they all knew about his death. The FBI videotape of the shooting had been repeatedly played and discussed in a way that befits conspiracy theorists. But this... 

The three of them shrank visibly away from the impossibly alive Alex. 

But when had Alex Krycek ever been so darkly handsome, with full, perfect lips and those emerald eyes that seemed to see everything inside a man's soul. Alien shapeshifters and clones were possibilities that occurred to them, but instinctively, each man knew that Alex's appearance was somehow supernatural. Supernatural definitely wasn't their area of expertise. 

Alex gave Mulder a prod. Alex had made it very clear that they had to lose the horsewomen. Then Alex would reward Mulder in some delicious way... The things he had whispered in Mulder's ear had made the hazel eyes widen and brought a whimper to those full lips. A great source of motivation for his pretty lover. 

The former agent blushed a little. "Guys, I need a favour..." 

"We don't do exorcisms!" Frohike squeaked. 

"Back, vampire fiend!" Langley yelled, waving a cross at Alex, who merely sighed heavily. He was never going to get laid at this rate. His failure to react seemed to confound the blonde gunman, who blushed in embarrassment. 

Byers visibly gulped. Alex chuckled, feeling an almost irresistible temptation to sprout horns and a tail, and wave a pitchfork about. He decided against it. It would scare Mulder off. Interesting thought for later though. Amazing the wickedness one could attempt with a prehensile tail, when one's hands and cock were already occupied... Anyway, he was horny enough. 

It would be fun, though, to stick Skinner in the rear with the pitchfork. 

With a whistle, he summoned his four female companions. There was an ululating shriek (Someone had been watching Xena again!) and the door exploded inwards under the irresistible force of four randy demon females. 

* * *

Doggett cursed Mulder as he headed out of the FBI building. Trust Mulder to get into trouble, less than a week after leaving the FBI. Well if he was involved in bank robbery and corpse stealing, then Doggett would find him and bring him in for questioning. He could count on the fingers of one hand the places Mulder was likely to be in Washington. 

He was going to get an answer out of the sorry son of a bitch if it took all the resources of the FBI to do it. 

* * *

Alex decided things were going well. 

Frohike stared at the tall woman in astonishment. Her sword waved inches away from his face, but Frohike barely noticed. He was practically drooling. War didn't need to make much of an effort to get her man. The little man's eyes had zeroed in on her prominent 44 inch chest, just the right height to be level with his face, and he obviously liked the leather... 

Byers had been cornered by Famine, literally. He dropped to his knees, trembling. She pointed to a spot of dirt on her shiny Chanel leather thigh-boots and the Gunman hastily began to rub it clean. She seized his head and with a chuckle of triumph, shoved it between her thighs. 

Alex winced. He had seen her crack nuts with those thighs once, as a party trick... Not the edible kind, either... 

Langley and Pestilence were a pair of spotty nerds together. Maybe she would show him her tattoos. She had him by the balls, and was pushing him up against the wall. An intellectual, she knew all the positions of the Kama Sutra, the Joy of Sex (and that weird Chinese book whose name he could never remember) by heart. He hoped Langley had stamina. 

Which left Death. Somehow, Alex couldn't see Mulder in bed with both of them. 

"What the hell?" 

The sound of an astonished human voice sounded behind him. Alex turned slowly, to find himself looking down the barrel of Doggett's service pistol. He smiled in dark amusement as the agent recognised him and paled noticeably. The gun barely wavered though,. The man was a credit to his uptight profession. Maybe sometime, Alex would give him some lessons in being out of control. Whimpering subservience would look good on Doggett. 

Death slammed into the agent from behind, expertly knocking him to the floor. Astride him, she fastened his hands behind him with his own cuffs and pulled a strip of thick black velvet ribbon from the depths of her cloak. She bound it round Doggett's eyes as the man struggled helplessly against her iron strength. 

He was in for the ride of his life, but he would never know who rode him. He would be blindfolded throughout. No man could maintain an erection while looking at Death. The terror of her appearance would make him soft and useless, if not mad. This way he would be usable for many hours. Though walking tomorrow would probably be out of the question. 

Death had learned to be sly in taking her pleasure... 

Alex suppressed the desire to join her in a wicked double exploitation of the helpless man. Maybe later he could trade her a couple of nights of sex for an account of every moan and whimper Doggett made. There were a few old scores to settle there... 

However, he had his own partner to entertain, and it was about time Mulder gave him the big payoff. With a snap of his fingers, he transported himself and his pretty Mulder to a boudoir of his own creation, almost incidentally, leaving their clothes behind. So that, between one moment and the next, Mulder found himself naked, sprawled on black velvet covers in a place that was sweet scented, warm and utterly dark. 

* * *

Mulder froze as the world changed around him. The darkness surrounding him was absolute. Sight was useless and he found himself using his other senses to learn more about this strange place. It seemed pleasant enough, but some instinct inside him was warning him to take care. A prickling feeling between his shoulder blades... He knew with absolute certainty that he wasn't alone. Logic told him that Alex was here too. That this was just another of the mysteries associated with his lover. Yet... Why did he feel so uneasy? As if he was some tiny prey animal trying to avoid the notice of a monstrous predator. He tried to extend his senses to probe the darkness around him, and though he couldn't hear anything, he shivered in apprehension. 

What the reptilian part of his brain whispered was that he was in the presence of something immeasurably evil. Part of the darkness that swirled around him. Purring, contented evil, that had him exactly where it wanted him, naked and vulnerable and alone, except for its monstrous expectancy. 

He whimpered slightly, shrinking in on himself, and he felt it draw near in response. A warm breath against the back of his neck... 

Then a touch; fingers tracing slowly, sensuously down his spine. Mulder gasped, the sound shockingly loud in the silence, and a soft chuckle sounded in his right ear. 

"Mulder..." Alex breathed softly. Lips brushed in a kiss against his shoulder. More laughter, and a push that sent him sprawling forward into the softness of velvet and fur throws. The sensation of Alex's tongue trailing down his spine made him cry out, his fear momentarily forgotten. A smooth thigh nudged between his, gentle yet determined. Fingers stroking his inner thighs so that he moaned in pleasure. Then he realised, too late, where Alex's attention was directed. 

"No!" he gasped, pulling away. Somehow the sense of evil receded as he moved apart from Alex. 

There was a low, inhuman growl of anger, freezing him in place, and the sense of danger returned tenfold. 

"You're not going to refuse me again, are you?" Alex said softly. Mulder sensed that terrible evil presence close to him. "Not after all the trouble I've gone to... That wouldn't be very grateful..." His voice was so cold and dark it sent an icy shiver through Mulder. 

Something flared in the darkness, about where Alex's eyes must be. Two small red sparks, dissected by night-dark pupils. Mulder felt his breath catch in his throat as he found his suspicions about Alex confirmed in the worst possible way. Alex held all of the cards, and he no longer felt the need to hide what he was. 

"You want to please me, don't you, Fox...?" The coldness disappeared in his voice as if it had never been, and the full power of Alex's charisma was directed towards Mulder. Evil could be more seductive than he had ever dreamed possible. The silken tones of Alex's voice seemed to caress Mulder in places no fingers or tongue could reach, sending a jolt of arousal through him. He feared the darkness, but he knew too, that Alex would make him feel so very good. 

"What do you want me to do?" he whispered, need overcoming fear. 

"You know...!" Alex purred, good humour restored. Just the way he said it made Mulder harder than he had ever been in his life. He did know. Deep down, where those darkest, wickedest, most secret fantasies lurked within his mind. 

Trembling a little, he lay down on his stomach, spreading his legs, and surrendered himself to sin and perversion and darkness. 

* * *

At last! Alex could barely control his sense of triumph. Freely given, Mulder's complete surrender. the darkness was no barrier to his appreciation of the smooth lines of Mulder's body. Darkness was his natural element; he could see as well as in daylight. He reached out irresistibly to stroke the firm curves of the human's rear, then he moved to cover Mulder's body with his own. 

The human cried out as Alex took him, the sound forced from him as the last of his innocence was taken from him. Mulder jammed his fist in his mouth to stop himself from screaming out. Alex forced himself to be gentle, though it was increasingly hard to hold back from satisfying himself. He angled his thrusts down a little, and knew instantly that he had found the right move. With a small cry, Mulder opened to him fully, spreading himself wide, the slut in him awakening and begging for more. 

With a joyful cry, the demon prince obliged. And if Mulder noticed the prince's leathery wings that spread in a sheltering canopy over them, or the small, stinging jabs from the point of a forked tail, urging his buttocks to greater motion, he was too deeply involved in enjoying his own damnation to care. 

At least, until the next morning, when he awoke sore and alone in his own apartment, and promptly checked himself into the nearest psychiatric care facility. Oddly enough, he found the rooms next door to him occupied by Byers, who was suffering from Gynophobia (a pathological fear of all women), and Skinner, who had the persistent delusion that a pitchfork was sticking out of his ass, a delusion so persuasive that he could only sit down on a haemorrhoid cushion. 

* * *

With a low groan, Doggett managed to roll onto his side. It took the whole of his strength, so he just lay, gasping, not following through the action that would help him get onto his hands and knees. Maybe not yet. The incredible soreness in his genitals warned him not to try yet. 

What a woman! So slender and lightweight. Yet strong too. 

He had never, ever in his entire life given up so much to a woman. Long before she had finished, he had been screaming for mercy, his balls afire. Bitch! He hated her, for making him her plaything, 

It was all Krycek's fault! The bastard had faked his death, and now he was free to create mayhem. Cursing the world in general, Doggett managed to stand, somewhat unsteadily. The whole of the FBI's resources would be used to track the Ratbastard down. Doggett would make it his goal in life. And when he caught up with Krycek... Payback! 

* * *

A watching Alex howled with laughter.... And began making plans. Did he want "Property of Alex." on the collar, for instance, or just studs... 

Tough choices... 

The End   
  

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